


An Inventor's Motivation

by MegaUnchained



Series: Full Steam Ahead! [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Best Friends, Friendship, Gen, Music, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28937466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegaUnchained/pseuds/MegaUnchained
Summary: Marianne reminisces on a music box she made years ago.
Series: Full Steam Ahead! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160156





	An Inventor's Motivation

It was a dull Saturday afternoon in Harper Bay, at least to Kim’s standards anyway. A heavy lunch of two subs and a burger wasn’t enough to quell the heavy brunette’s boredom. More often than not, she’d expect a message from Marianne to come over and test out a new Tinkertoy of hers she had been working on or just barge into the workshop and take the inventor out into town for one excursion or another. And yet, there was none of that today. Every text Kim sent came up unread, every call six rings to voicemail. Something was amiss and Kim wasn’t going to wait until that something corrected itself. The musician made for the front door and started a light walk to Marianne’s to see what was happening. Fortunately it was only a few steps away from Kim’s humble abode to reach the tinkerer’s Victorian estate, a round lass like Kim couldn’t stand unnecessary exercise. With a knock on the door to a simple beat, Kim waited patiently for her good companion to let her in and see what she could be working on. However, seconds turned to minutes as the drummer began to feel a sense of mild impatience. A tap of her foot and a pat of her belly passed the time, making a melody out of it. Kim grinned, if I’m gonna have to wait I can at least work on that solo as she pondered to the rhythm. Soon she got lost to that rhythm as more time continued to pass. It was nearly fifteen minutes since the initial knock on that dark red door where Kim finally had enough.

“Seriously, what is taking her so long?” The annoyed percussionist looked around for any sort of clue until she noticed the small leaflet that was taped to the door that went ignored the entire time. The woman smacked a doughy hand to her face in embarrassment, wondering how she failed to notice that until this moment. Pulling off the parchment she read it to herself.

“ _The workshop is closed for today. If this is Kim, I’m in my personal study upstairs. Otherwise I prefer not to be disturbed. – M. T._ ”

“So, she’s cooped herself up to her room eh?” The bulky lass pondered with a frown. It wasn’t often Marianne wasn’t in the workshop toiling away, at least under her own volition. Fortunately for Kim, she had a spare front door key Marianne gave her in the event of an emergency, or if the amalgamation of gears and steam ever went kaput. Placing the key into the hole, she opened the maroon door and wriggled herself through the less than forgiving frame of the entrance. Nowhere near as confining as the entryway to the workshop, but still a chore considering how her own place had everything custom made. Kim made it inside to the opening foyer with a gear coated staircase leading up to the second floor and a spiraling mess of brass and steel leading down to the catacombs of the abode and to Marianne’s steampunkian wonderland. The large lady breathed a sigh of relief, a simple flight of steps is nothing compared to the satanic staircase which required far too much energy for a resident big girl like herself. As Kim slowly ascended the small set of stairs, a light melodious tune began to echo through. It played like a lullaby a mother would sing to a crying child to ease it worries before descending to the world of dreams. A bit sappy to Kim’s big band standards, but she couldn’t help but stop for a minute and appreciate how well the song was composed. An aspiring drummer should have a good sense of musical prowess, and despite her grand stature, Kim knew her material well. How each rhythmic beat must work in harmonious unison otherwise the works of those piloting these instruments will only be setting themselves for failure. After reaching the top of the stairs, Kim stroked her head and swiped off beads of sweat pouring out from her face. If she had it her way, everything would be automated; from elevators to escalators, to even moving walkways. Anything to further a lifestyle of lackadaisical indulgence.

The drummer waddled lightly through the hall, noticing the walls were plastered in wallpaper harkening back to the days of the Industrial Revolution. Cogs, gears, and smokestacks pluming steam all set against a backdrop of olive green and a dull gold. Each step Kim took led the melody to grow louder and more recognizable, but at the same time, light whimpering as well. Reaching the door to Marianne’s quarters, Kim gave it a gentle knock. “Come in,” a melancholy voice replied. As Kim opened the door, she did not step any further, only noticing a despondent Marianne with puffy eyes, looking at her partner after spending so much time fixated on a small brass box.

“You know as well as I do that me, ‘coming in’ isn’t gonna be a one person operation.” Kim soon waved her arms down across her bulky body. The door was just as narrow as the one in the workshop, and there was no way the four hundred plus pound drummer was prying herself through that alone. Getting the hint, Marianne walked to the entryway with her wide hips swaying lightly, and proceeded to grope a chunk of Kim’s belly as she pulled while Kim thrusted herself in. Some light struggling was had, but Kim soon was inside after regaining footing lost for just a second.

“Thanks Marianne,” remarked a content Kim. “Doesn’t get any easier nowadays considering I-” Her thoughts were abandoned as she saw Marianne’s eyes up close. The azure irises dotted by crosshairs were surrounded by a sea of red with tears softly trickling down from her ducts. Something was wrong, that much was obvious, what it was still eluded the doughy drummer. “All right, I’ll bite,” Kim said, plopping her large butt down on Marianne’s bed, “the bubbly lady marching full steam ahead seems to have canceled her daily concert. What’s eating ya?”

“Well, I…” Marianne trailed off, looking back at the small box on the table nearby.

“Come on, take a seat,” Kim motioned towards the bed. “Let Auntie Kim ease your sorrows.” Marianne looked on worryingly as Kim lightly patted the mattress.

“You sure it’ll hold both of us?”

“It’s a queen, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Then it’ll hold. Have one at home and it’s big enough to hold me and then some!” The weary inventor rolled her eyes. That seemed incredibly unlikely, still with a sigh she replied.

“Fine, give me a second.” Marianne grabbed the box and walked towards the bed, noticing just how much the foam sank towards the base of the bed thanks to Kim’s incredible bulk. She then shuffled around and took a seat next to her friend, and held the box out towards her.

“You see,” the tinkerer remarked solemnly, “this was a gift I made my mother when I was ten. _Tinkertoy No. 26, Mother’s Music Box._ It took me months to get the mechanical parts to align just right so that it played exactly how she would sing it to me.”

“Sing what?”

“A lullaby she’d sing to me every night when I was a baby, I still remember the words so clearly.”

“Well let me hear it then!” Kim said with a gleam in her glasses.

“Wait what? Kim you know I’m not much of a singer…”

“Neither am I, but I can’t just let music be shackled to doubts, now sing girl!”

“Ugh, okay…” Marianne took a deep breath and let out a light cough, but slowly, she built up the confidence to let the words out, and activated the music box. A light melody began to chime from the brass machine, with Kim getting lost in the music.

“ _No matter what they say, and no matter what they do, all you need to know is that you’re a very special you. So find your own tune, and my love is always true, because even in the darkness we’ll cheer in moonlight._ ” After it was over, Kim went into a raucous applause, clapping wildly in praise of her friend.

“Now that’s a song! Tad too slow for my tastes but seriously that was phenomenal and why are you crying?” Kim’s praise turned to concern as she saw Marianne break down into tears, her palms covering a weakened face.

“I…I just…it reminds me of her so much…”

“Marianne, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to open old wounds like that.” Kim shuffled away slightly towards the other side of the bed in a sense of shame. “How long has it been since-”’

“No. She’s not dead, but we’ve had, well, issues over the years.” Kim looked on longingly, knowing she had to do something to help.

“You want to explain? I mean, if you’re okay with it, don’t want to poke the bear any further than I have.”

“It’s fine,” Marianne said with a sniffle. “You see, when I was young, my mom and I were inseparable. We were kindred spirits and looked after each other. She helped fuel my passion for inventing after all.”

“Really?”

“She told me, ‘Marianne, there is only so much we can do in our lives. Make the most of it and build to your wildest dreams! One day your hard work will pay off and you’ll be remembered for generations to come.”

“Guess that explains your desire to not be forgotten then huh?”

“Well, yes and no.” Marianne shook her head. “She got my fire started per say, my first invention was a small robot with a propeller on its head. I still keep it in the back of my workshop to look over every now and again, seeing where it all started and how far I’ve gone since then. My mom loved it so much and I wanted to make her happy. She’d motivate me, defended me from bullies, even beat one up in grade school.”

“Woah,” Kim gasped as she sat there stunned. “That I would have loved to see, if not give them a piece of my mind myself.” Marianne chuckled at Kim’s bravado.

“I suppose. Still, she kept giving me books to learn from, kept me motivated to study, went to a good university and now I’m here making Tinkertoys almost on the daily. This Tinkertoy was a gift I made her for her birthday. She swelled with joy when she saw it and gave me a great big hug. I told her it was a music box with the same song she’d sing to me and when she played it she cried. It’s beautiful Marianne, I love you so much, she said. And yet…”

“Huh?”

“Things…changed.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Never did know my father, never saw him after I was five. Mom said he was a drunk, abusive and cruel, tried to take her away from me too. She was someone I looked up to, along with my grandfather. The only two real role models I had in my life.”

“That doesn’t answer how things changed you know.”

“I’m getting there. About eight years ago it started. Mom’s cheery view of the world soon soured. She grew cold, spiteful, hateful that she didn’t get the same respect as others because of her skin.”

“But girl, you’re as white bread as they can get. How can there be bias against that?”

“She says because where we living they valued minorities more than the natives. Personally found it foolish myself, respect is based on merit, not the color of one’s skin or where they come from. At least I see it that way. She was overworked and overstressed, barely making ends meet. She was verbally abused at work and she had no one to vent to, besides me.” Kim’s visage grew concerned as Marianne’s once rosy smile turned to a frown.

“You’re not telling me she-”

“ _’Marianne you’re a loser! No one wants your inventions, you’re just wasting your time!’ ‘Marianne where’s my money for rent?’ ‘Marianne! The tub’s still dirty!_ ’ The money was given to her early every month and the bathtub drained slowly back home, so it’d take some time to fully empty before you could clean it out. She lashed out at me even though it only just finished draining.”

“That’s horrible!”

“Nights on end we’d just scream at each other, both retreat to our rooms and sob. Mom even threatened suicide just to escape. She told me never to give up and that karma would always be there, but she gave up, because the world gave up on her.”

“That’s still not a reason to lash out at you like that Marianne. You’re your own being with your own worries and concerns.”

“I tried explaining that to her, she didn’t care. The mother I once knew was gone. Then six years ago, the cops came to our house. Apparently mom assaulted a worker who was related to the owner of the supermarket she worked at. They had to tase her to get her to calm down. As they dragged her out the door, she took the Tinkertoy and hurled it at me as it shattered from the impact, shouting this as she left: ‘ _Marianne, you are a worthless daughter! You’re a deadbeat, a loser with no friends, you won’t amount to anything. I hate you!_ ’ Those were the last words she ever said to me as of now. I just fell to the floor and cried the entire night after repairing the music box, listening to it non-stop for a week. I missed my mom, the mom I used to know.” Kim began to tear up herself. For what it was worth her family was ho hum, only getting huffy over how fat she was getting but other than that just fine. Marianne on the other hand, to Kim, she suffered far more than she’d wish onto anyone.

“Eventually I couldn’t keep up with the rent, sister wouldn’t help out, so I had to move here. Built my own place after talking to the mayor about my situation.”

“Sometimes I still forget you made this thing all on your own.”

“I felt like when I first got here, I had to make a name for myself, to prove her wrong. But those first few days after that, I just built out of spite, not of passion. So many projects that served no purpose, went nowhere, all because I felt I had to say, yeah mom I am worth something after all. It didn’t come, and I just felt alone far more than I ever had in my life. The music box I kept locked away for months, I didn’t want to see it ever again for a while. I just didn’t want to be reminded of the person that fueled my doubts that I’d be worth something in this world.” A deafening silence filled the room as Marianne sulked down at the music box. Kim looked on struggling to even find the right words to console her beleaguered buddy. Yet as she reached out, the inventor rubbed her eyes and looked up to her.

And then, I met you Kim. Without you, your support, I don’t know where’d I be right now. Probably fifty or so pounds lighter but…”

“Listen, I rub off my best traits on people. Now hear this Marianne. You’re one of a kind, someone whose talent I envy a lot. You’ve made things that people could only dream of, and despite everything, you’re still you.” Kim looked up the ceiling, noticing the starry sky Marianne had painted on it. “Deep down your Mom still loves you, she got you started on this path after all. Even if things have been strained for a while, you’ve gotta look at the good memories too. Yeah it ain’t pretty taking of the rose tinted goggles, seeing the darkness within their hearts, but even when everything seems stacked against you, know that you’ll always have someone rooting for ya till the very end.”

“And who might that be?” Marianne looked up teary eyed.

“You’ll lookin’ at her! So keep on building Marianne, and we’ll cheer through the moonlight!’ Marianne rushed over to her friend, sobbing as she squeezed her tightly. The ample body fat of the drummer spilled around Marianne’s back against her own soft stomach. It was like being wrapped around by the world’s fluffiest teddy bear, a warm embrace from the coldness she had been feeling. “Let me know if you need another one, got enough hugs to go around Marianne.”

“Thanks Kim, it means a lot.” Kim wiped the tears off Marianne’s face as she heaved herself off the bed.

“Hey now, what are friends for? Now, you mind playing that for me again?”

“Oh, sure!” Marianne activated the music box once again, playing the same tune she knew so well. Kim pulled out two drum sticks from her short pocket and began gently tapping them against her gut, letting a secondary beat meld with a tried and true classic. Kim’s movements were calculated and well received, giving the short song an even sweeter sound. Marianne teared up again, this time not from sadness, but from delight. She had a friend, a true one in that, and if she ever saw her mom again, maybe this time it’ll be the one she remembered from so long ago. The memories poured in, Marianne was at peace and a smile formed against the droplets of tears.

“Say,” Kim pondered, “You mind making me one of those things? Just needs a tad more tempo and a lot more bass, a real jazz sound you know?”

“I can get working on that now yeah.” Kim put a meaty arm around Marianne’s shoulder.

“Not today you ain’t, I can wait. Let’s head down to Annabelle’s get you a good treat on me. Sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” As the two exited Marianne’s room, she put the music box back on the counter and listened to the final seconds of the song before in perfect timing, turned off the light and closed the door.

“ _...because even in the darkness we’ll cheer in moonlight…_ ”


End file.
